Game On - Supernatural
by julesblackangel
Summary: Layla is being bombarded by scum bags in a skeevy bar, and you are using you superior sass skills to ward them off, catching a the eye of the one Dean Winchester… read on to find out what happens.


"Hi there. Would you be willing to help me with something, darlin'?" Some random bar scum asked me, sitting down at the stool next to me. He had a pigish smirk plastered on his face, and I could only imagine what came next in this horror story. "You see, I got a new job as a police officer, and I think my handcuffs are broken. Maybe you could come and test them out for me? I have the key, you know, just in case." He finished with a wink. You could practically smell the testosterone pouring off him, making my stomach churn. This was basically how my night had been going up to that point, one douchebag trying to score after another. I guess that is what I get for actually trying to look nice for once. I was wearing black stilettos to match my black cocktail dress, my long, blonde hair left down as opposed to my usual high ponytail. I had plopped myself down at the bar, sipping from the same beer for two hours.

I leaned over to the guy, forcing my face into a seductive smile. I wrapped one arm around his neck. "Yum, so tell me. If you are a police officer, do you have a gun? You know, besides that dangerous weapon you have hiding down below." I said, inching towards his face. He gulped, chuckling nervously, surprised at my response.

"Oh baby, you know I do." He said, putting his hands on my waist. I leaned as close to his face as I could without touching our lips before stopping, hovering there. I suddenly grabbed his shoulder, pushing him back."

"Then why don't you just shoot your dick off, cause that line is never gonna get you laid anyway. Better yet, just blow a hole straight through that air sac you call ahead." I spat, turning back to my beer, swallowing the last of it before waving for another. The guy was shocked, but soon collected himself, giving me a venomous glare before scuttling off. I gave myself a swig of beer. "Cheers to me." I whispered to myself.

"Well, you sure showed him." Came another man's voice on the opposite side of me, as he reached over to clink his beer against mine. I turned to him, and took in the sight. His hair was an earthy brown, spiked up like spears across a lost battlefield. His eyes were a piercing green, glowing like emeralds caught in the sun. His lips were such an elegant color of pink and probably felt softer than silk. He was wearing a camouflage green v-neck with a navy jumper over it, paired with dark wash jeans and combat boots. He had a healing bruise on his left cheek where he had been punched a few days back, and some cuts and scrapes along his toned arms. I felt my breath hitch in my throat, but tried to conceal it with a slight cough. I sneered at him, not letting his angelic features alter my demeanor.

"Then I am sure you can guess what's coming straight for you." I said, my voice oozing with sarcasm. I switched my legs, crossing them, letting the heel of my shoe scrape against his leg.

"Hey, come on! You don't even know me. I bet you'd love me." He said in a sing-songy voice. He nudged my shoulder, chuckling at his sorry excuse for a comeback.

"Yeah, and I am sure that guy thought I would love him too. But that is definitely some lovin' I don't want." I responded, turning forward, taking a long swig from the beer, finishing it. I waved to the waiter, ordering a shot. Beer was simply not going to get me through the rest of the night. This bar was crawling with these guys and I didn't want to leave quite left. I downed it in half a second flat. "So, if your goal was anywhere near what I could guess his was, find another girl with a little more alcohol in her and a lot less self confidence." I finished.

"You know, you didn't even get my name. And I happen to be nothing like that guy. I would have punched him in the face if you hadn't handled him." He said, smirking once again. I fought the smile creeping onto my face.

"I wasn't looking for a name, just an exit you could use. But be careful. This place is full of fire hazards that should be cleared." I said.

"I'm Dean. Dean Winchester." He said, ignoring my comment. He extended his hand for mine. My eyes widened when he said his name. Was he the Dean Winchester? I turned and took his hand.

"I'm Layla. Layla Kinsberg." I answer, smirking before flipping my head forward once again. I saw him grin, shaking his head. I had to keep telling myself that he was just looking to take me home for the ole' "hump-n'-dump". No matter how attracted to him I was, I had to stand my ground. Whether he gets what he wants or not, I was definitely not going to make it easy.

"So, can I buy you a drink, or are you done for the night?" He asked, smiling kindly at me, struggling to keep his eyes above my neck. I chuckled, appreciating his effort to not gawk at my chest, which I had far more exposed than normal.

"Free drink? Sure. Go ahead. I'm just not looking to run a tab. Especially not one on you." I responded wittily. He ordered two beers, handing mine to me while laughing breathily. He held his beer up next to mine.

"Cheers to us." He said, clinking them together.

"Funny. Now you've had your fun, so could you leave me alone? I would greatly appreciate it." I said dryly, not a hint of amusement on my face. His grin faltered and he just nodded his head before getting up and sauntering away. I let out a puff of air I didn't know I was holding and took a notepad and tablet out of my purse. I had been working a witch case, and only chose this bar because it was right smack in the middle of the activity I had picked up on. I glanced back to see Dean staring at me intensely, making me blush. I turned away, forcing myself to focus on two things: the case, and my beer.

About an hour, and three beers later, I had to put the case stuff away. My head was pounding and the growing headache was starting to hurt like a bitch. That was when the bartender came over and gave me some drink called a "Funky Monkey".

"Um, I sure as hell didn't order this." I sneered, the headache obviously having put me in quite a pissy mood.

"Look little lady, I just give the drinks. That dude over there told me to give 'the diva with a pen' a Funky Monkey. I don't ask questions, especially not for money." He scoffed before heading over to serve someone else. I turned around to see who he pointed at, wishing more than anything that I was wrong at who I thought it would be. My eyes landed on the person he had gestured to. God I hated being right sometimes. I had had about enough of his games, so I grabbed the drink and stormed over to him. I threw the drink in his face, earning a very surprised look on his face.

"Look dude, I have had a long week, and I am so not in the mood for your games. I have about a gallon of alcohol in me yet I can't seem to get drunk. I probably downed a whole bottle of advil pills and you still managed to give me a headache. I have some important work to do, and you are definitely not more important than other people's lives. So why don't you go screw yourself, cause you sure as hell are not screwing me!" I yelled, finally hitting my boiling point. I was so angry that I could practically hear the steam billowing from my ears. Dean's grin that he had been wearing all night disappeared, and was replaced by embarrassment and guilt. He tried to stammer an apology, but I wasn't hearing any of it. Just then, I saw a woman slip a small leather bag into someone's purse. Maybe this bar wasn't such an awful idea after all.

I stepped around Dean, ignoring his attempts, and walked off after the witch. I followed her into an alley behind the bar, and she then turned around to face me.

"Well, it must be my lucky night. My work must be impressive to have a lady hunter on my ass." She snickered. She was dressed in a black pencil skirt, a sheer black blouse, which hung loose on her frail frame. The only thing contrasting her morbid outfit were the red stilettos she had on. I reached for the knives I had tucked into the back of my underwear. The hole in the back of my dress gave me a perfect hiding spot for them.

"Well, look you bitch, oh sorry, witch. Your kind are all kinds of scary when you have your little army of hex bags, but right now, I have you out armed, outsmarted, and quite frankly, outdressed." I responded venomously. The witch let out a dry, raspy chuckle that made me cringe.

"Aren't you a tough one, huh? Well darlin', give me your best shot." She queered, laying her hands out. I flung a knife at her and it sank into the flesh of her shoulder. She didn't even flinch. My brow knitted with confusion. "You didn't think I would make it that easy did you. I may not be able to fling spells at you, but I did manage to take some necessary precautions. Protection spell, sweetie. Only one achilles heel, and as if I would tell you. Now how about we try and talk this out?" She said, smirking at me.

"Oh, sweetie, I wouldn't negotiate you if it was to save my own life. And if you can't find the one spot on the body to sink your blade into, I always say just torch the whole damn thing." And with that, I grabbed the gallon of gasoline sitting next to the dumpster, flinging it on her. I pulled the lighter out from my dress, throwing it at her. She lit up in flames and one spot in the center of her left cheek began to blister. She screamed in agony and the protection spell broke. She fell to the ground with a lifeless thud, the fire extinguishing a few minutes later. Just then, I heard someone clapping, and a figure stepped out of the shadows.

"Thanks for taking care of that train wreck for me. Really saved me the sweat." A familiar voice said.

"Well Dean, nobody wants to see that." I responded icily. I pushed past him as I walked further down the alley. He jogged to catch up with me.

"Layla, wait, please." He pleaded. I stopped, but remained silent. "Layla, my goal was never to just take you back to my motel, have sex, and kick you to the curb never to be seen again. The minute I saw you, I needed to know you. You are so beautiful that no girl in there compares. No guy in there deserves you, and I know that I am included in that mix, but I am asking you. Give me a chance." He finished with a huff. I fought back the few tears that had formed in my eyes at his words.

"Look Dean, I like you a lot too. You are the hottest guy in there by far, and the legends about you are astonishing. Some hunter told me you had a book series and I read them all. The truck-stop lady with the weird rash by the way...really?" I questioned.

"Oh god, damnit Chuck! Yeah not my brightest moment." He confessed.

"But Dean, I do like you. This case was my top priority, and I was so afraid of another one of the many one night stands I have had while on the job. Now that this case is over, and after what you just told me…" I started. I took a deep breath, collecting myself. "I rented a motel room about a mile back." I finished nervously.

"What are we waiting for?" He asked.


End file.
